The Delicate Balance
by Galia
Summary: A D/N because I love those, PG for some disturbing mental activity. Two endings, in case you think the first is too sad. R/R!!!!!


Sarra came running up to her house, out of breath but smiling. Her husband, Weiryn, and the male badger god were relaxing outside and watching the sunset over the realms of the gods.  
"Weiryn!" she cried, waving a small piece of glowing paper in the air. "They've accepted!"  
The man with green skin and horns smiled and got to his feet. "That's wonderful!"  
The badger looked from one to the other. "What's going on here?"  
Sarra turned smiling to the badger. "My Daine. She's coming for a visit!"  
The badger sniffed. "But the great gods said she could never come back to our realms. Have they changed their minds?"  
Weiryn was reading the paper. "Not exactly, Badger. But they understand that Daine has been too busy to visit us for a few years, and they've granted an exception."  
"When will she come?" the badger asked. Weiryn and Sarra smiled at each other. The badger understood and shifted to a more comfortable position as the two humans began the ritual.  
  
Daine woke up and looked around groggily. It was still dark outside. "Numair?"  
"I'm in here," he called softly from the dressing room. "Did I wake you?" He came into the bedroom and sat on the edge of their bed, pulling his boots on.   
She frowned. "What time is it? Where are you going?"  
He sighed. "It's a few hours before dawn. Jon called me to his study for something or other...I don't know if it's urgent, but I don't want to take a chance."  
Daine rolled over so that her back faced him. Her face, if he could have seen it, would have put him in mind of a storm cloud. "What?" he asked, laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.  
She wriggled out of his grip. "You're always rushing off to here or there," she said. "We never get any time together. "  
He shook his head. "You know I hate it as much as you do." He kissed her tenderly on the shoulder, making her turn slightly to face him. "And you know things will be different once we're married."  
Now she turned all the way, her expression unreadable. "I haven't said yes yet," she reminded him.  
He smiled sadly and rose with a final kiss, hoping that she had forgiven him. "I live constantly in hope," he told her, bowing exaggeratedly and walking out the door.  
Swallowing a giggle, Daine sighed and turned onto her back. Numair is always away, she thought, and I miss him so much! But when we're together...  
Her thoughts were interrupted by a gentle tug that seemed to affect her whole body. As she lay frozen in horror, the pull became increasingly stronger until she felt herself being sucked away....  
  
Numair glared at Jon. "That's it?"  
The king nodded. "I'm sorry I got you up so early for a false alarm. Next time I'll check my sources more carefully."  
"You have no idea how absolutely incensed Daine's been at me lately because of your late night 'emergencies'", the mage responded angrily. His companion sighed and dismissed him.  
Numair strode quickly back to his room. Maybe he could be there before Daine woke up. The sun was just rising, but when he got back, he knew she was gone.  
However, something wasn't right with the room. Whichever one of them left last made the bed, and it was still in a state of disarray. Daine's boots stood in their usual spot by the door-wherever she is, he thought, she's barefoot. The more he examined the room, the more wrong things seemed. Shaking his head in puzzlement, he left and closed the door behind him. When I come home this evening, he thought, she'll be waiting for me like always.  
  
"Ma?" Daine looked into her mother's smiling face.   
"Hello, Daine," Sarra said. "It's wonderful to see you again." She helped her daughter to her feet.  
Daine was confused. "Where am I? What happened?" Looking around, she recognized her mother and father's house, the green woods, and her father. "Goddess! Did I...am I..."  
Weiryn laughed. "Relax, Daine. You're alive. We just brought you for a visit." Daine opened her mouth to protest.  
"I know it's not the solstice," her mother interrupted, "but we petitioned the great gods to let you come for a visit, seeing as it's been so long since the last time we've seen you."  
"Oh," Daine said, rubbing her head. This was confusing. "But I wish you'd told me first. Numair will be worried if I'm not back soon."  
Sarra looked worried. "We can't send you back for a week. I wish I'd thought of contacting you first, but I was so impatient..."  
"I see." Daine said coldly. "Well, for your information, I am going to marry Numair, but he might change his mind if I suddenly disappear for a week." She caught her breath-she hadn't planned on marrying Numair yet, but the moment the words passed her lips she knew she could wait no longer.  
Her mother pulled her into a hug. "Oh, dear, I am sorry. But there's nothing I can do about it now, so I suggest you just enjoy your stay."  
  
Numair looked slowly up into Alanna's eyes, as if a realization had just come over him. "She's gone for good."  
The Lioness squeezed her friend's hand tightly. "She is not gone for good. Don't even say that. Don't let yourself think it."  
The man pulled his hand out of her grasp and got up to furiously pace the room. "Why not? It's true. She would never, ever stay away for an entire week without telling me if she meant to return. I will never see her again."  
"Numair! Stop it!" Alanna snapped. "Have you tried looking for her with your Gift?" The look he gave her could have frozen the sun. "I thought so. Maybe you should talk to Jon. He could have sent her somewhere in a hurry."  
"In case you've forgotten," he said icily, "I was with him at the time of her alleged disappearance. And besides, I've already checked."  
Without warning, he stopped pacing and sunk onto the bed, sobbing. The king's champion watched him, stunned. In the years they had known each other, she had seen a few tears from him, but never this uncontrolled display of emotion.   
Finally, after nearly half an hour, he sat up and looked at her, his eyes red but dry. "What am I going to do without her," he said solemnly. It was not a question.  
"Oh, Numair!" Alanna cried. She crossed the room in three steps and flung her arms around him. He neither pushed her away nor moved toward her, and she pushed back an unwanted thought that he was beyond comforting. But the shock would pass, she was sure. Numair was too levelheaded to let it affect him-wasn't he?  
  
Daine was in the kitchen, making dinner with her mother. "Oh, Ma," she asked, "isn't there any way you can send me back early? Right now, perhaps?"  
Her mother put down her carving knife and looked at her. "What is wrong with you? We haven't had a visit in ages, and all I hear is how much you want to go home."  
The girl sighed. "I miss Numair," she admitted. "I miss him every second of every day, and I'm glad I'm going home in a few hours because I don't know how much longer I can be apart from him without making myself crazy."  
Sarra looked at her daughter, eyes full of sympathy. "I'm sorry, Daine, but there's no way I can send you home." Daine started to cry, and her mother put her arms around her. "Oh, sweet, I would if I could! But the great gods forbid it."  
Daine sniffed and tried to smile. Her mother dried her tears. "You'll see him soon."  
  
Jon sighed as he heard the familiar knock on his study door. He got up from his work and opened it. "Hello, Numair." The words were out of his mouth before he had even seen the face.  
Numair blinked down at him. "Good evening, Jon. I was just wondering if you wanted a look at-"  
"No, Numair, I'm sorry. I'm rather busy at the moment." And this is the fifth time you've knocked in the past two hours, he added mentally.  
The mage sighed, and Jon instantly felt guilty. Numair had been making up for the loss of his lover by devoting himself to his experiments. Apparently, grief had multiplied his genius, but the constant discoveries were becoming annoying.  
Numair nodded, and Jon saw that there were dark circles under his eyes. In the months since Daine had disappeared, it was apparent that he had barely taken the time to eat or sleep. Servants said that a light was burning under his locked workroom door at all hours.  
"Why don't you go inform Master Reed of your discovery?" The king suggested gently. Numair glowered.  
"You mean I should go tell someone who cares. Fine, then. I will. I'm sure someone will appreciate my work!" he cried, leaving the study and slamming the door behind him. Jon watched him go, confused and remorseful.  
  
"What do you mean, I can't go home?" Daine was close to panic.   
Sarra put a comforting hand on her arm and was immediately shaken off. "Oh, Daine, I'm so sorry! But Weiryn's been called away and we can't send you back until he returns."  
"And when will that be?" her daughter asked.  
"I don't know. It could be weeks, months, even," the other woman replied softly. Daine collapsed, sobbing, into her mother's arms.  
  
"Lindhall! Open up, it's me." Numair called, pounding on the door. Lindhall Reed opened the door, bewildered.  
"Numair! I haven't seen you in a long time! Is something wrong?" he asked, showing his friend in. "You look ill." Numair glared, and Lindhall decided not to mention it again.  
"I've been doing some experiments on the uses of magic in a vacuum, and I thought you might be interested," Numair said. He handed the other man a thick stack of papers and flung himself in a chair.  
Lindhall sat to read the documents, occasionally muttering, "Brilliant, simply brilliant." Finally he finished, and looked over at Numair. The younger man was in the exact same position as he had been an hour ago, but his eyes were fixed somewhere within himself.  
"Numair, this is remarkable," Lindhall commented. But his companion seemed not to hear him.  
"Lindhall," he said suddenly, eyes coming back into focus, "what do you think would be the best way to die?"  
Lindhall sat bolt upright. "Numair?"  
The other man frowned darkly. "I asked you a simple question. Won't you answer me?"  
With a sigh, Lindhall sat back. "I suppose it would be preferable to die in one's sleep." Seeing Numair begin to rise, he added quickly, "...after a long and happy life."  
Numair frowned and sat back. "And if that is not possible?"  
Lindhall sighed. "Why are we having this conversation? Why are you thinking about this?" Seeing his friend frown, he said, "She'll come back."  
Numair had had it with people trying to be nice. "No, she wont," he said, his voice breaking. He shouted, "No, she won't!" and then was gone, striding down the hallway with quick determined footsteps.  
  
I can't get a straight answer out of anyone tonight, Numair thought. Without Daine, nothing's right. I can't face life without her.  
You're being idiotic, his sensible side said fiercely. Daine is not all that you have in the world. Can't you think of anything else to live for?  
He disregarded the voice and continued down the hallway. An unseen force within himself pulled him back. Alanna and Jon need you, he thought suddenly, and you need them. What about Lindhall?  
What about him? came the reply from his suicidal half.  
What about them all? said Good Numair. You have people to live for, and Tortall, and your magic.  
I don't care! his other self responded. What really matters without Daine?  
  
Nobody saw him leave the palace and enter the royal forest on foot. In the deepest part, he found a young oak tree struggling to grow through the thick canopy of leaves overhead. Taking out his dagger, he sank to his knees beside it. When he left the palace, he had meant to stab himself, but that seemed so selfish. Another idea had come to him since, inspired by an old spell he remembered reading about years ago.  
"Mithros and Goddess," he said, "may I give life to this tree and this soil, so that other living things may succeed where I have chosen to fail." With trembling fingers, not bothering to remove his shirt, he cut a magical symbol into his chest. Letting his blood drip onto the roots of the tree, he forced his entire Gift out of his body. The tree glowed brightly and began to grow, so quickly one could see it if one looked carefully. But Numair was not watching the tree. He was concentrating within himself, searching for his life force.  
He found it, a glowing presence at the center of his rapidly depleting ball of magic. With a great effort, he forced this central fire out through the slashes in his chest until there was none left.   
No matter what happens, he thought, I still love you, Daine. I can't live without...  
He did not finish the thought. Dead people cannot think.  
  
Some immortals had taken over the parts of the divine realms reserved for the gods alone. Weiryn was needed for almost six months to help fight them and return them to their rightful places. Once he returned, Daine could not go home soon enough. Although she hugged her parents and the badger goodbye, her heart was already at home, where Numair would be waiting for her.  
She lost sight of her mothers tearful, smiling face in a mass of white fog. When it cleared, she saw she was in the room she shared with Numair. But where was he? He wasn't in the room, and a quick stroll through the mages' wing confirmed that he was not in his workroom or that of any of his colleagues. Puzzled as she left, she ran into the lioness.  
"Oh, Alanna!" she cried, hugging her friend. "You're not going to believe this, but my parents brought me into the divine realms, and then I was stuck and couldn't go home, but now I'm here and where's Numair?" she said in a breathless rush.  
Alanna was shaking. Daine pulled back and looked at her. "Something's wrong. You've something to tell me."  
Quite unexpectedly, the king's champion started crying. Not loudly or fussily, but tears slid down her cheeks all the same. "Daine," she said scratchily, "he missed you. He thought you had left him for good, so he..."  
Daine blocked out the sense of dread coming over her. "He found-someone else? Another woman?" As she had feared, the lioness shook her head.   
"He-he killed-killed himself-" Alanna let a sob escape and turned to the wall, banging on the stone with her fists. "Why? Oh, Goddess, why? How could he?"   
Daine heard none of this. She was standing perfectly still, and her face was calm. Suddenly, she smiled.  
"Hello, Numair!" she said, kissing the empty air. While Alanna watched in horror, she proceeded to explain to Numair where she had been. Daine told the empty space beside her all about her parents and the badger. Sometimes she paused, as if hearing responses.  
"But Daine!" Alanna protested, now under control. "They burned his body yesterday-I saw it with my own eyes." Daine did not skip a beat in her conversation.  
  
For the rest of her life, Daine would continue to talk to Numair as if he were standing beside her. Her friends tried to speak to her, but it was as if they did not exist. But Numair did.  
Some thought that he had come back from the Black God's realms as an invisible spirit that spoke only to her. But most believed that Daine was an insane old woman who could not bear life without her lover. When she died, she spoke her first word to another person since she had heard of Numair's death.  
"Onua," she said, "When he dies, bury him next to me."  
  
Do you like that ending? Me neither! Let's see what would have happened if Numair had thought like a grown-up, and not Romeo.  
  
Alanna and Jon need you, he thought suddenly, and you need them. What about Lindhall?  
What about him? came the reply from his suicidal half.  
What about them all? said Good Numair. You have people to live for, and Tortall, and your magic.  
I don't care! his other self responded. What really matters without Daine?  
Instead of speaking to him, Numair's good half replied in a barrage of images. Numair saw himself in his workroom, creating a spell that could rid a village of a dangerous century-old curse. He saw himself shape-shifted as a hawk, spying for the king. He saw himself comforting Onua, upset over the loss of her favorite horse. Daine's likeness was not present in a single thought.  
It was all too much for him just now. To give himself time to think, Numair removed his dagger from his belt. He vowed to give it to the next person who came down the hall.  
Almost immediately, a squire turned a corner and headed directly toward him. The squire was carrying a bundle of something heavy and awkward-armor, Numair guessed. As the boy came closer, he smiled.  
"Hello, Master Numair!" he said. It was Owen of Jesslaw. The mage remembered having him in one of his magic for the Gift-less classes, back when the boy was a page.  
"Owen, could you do me a favor?" Numair asked. "That is, if you're not busy," he amended.  
"Sure, Master Numair!" he said cheerfully. Numair sighed-some boys refused to drop the formal title and call him by his first name-and handed him the knife. Juggling his load, the page held it carefully. "What do you want me to do with it?"  
"Just keep it," Numair said. "I'll come back for it later. Thank you." Owen waved and continued on his way.  
Good, Numair thought. Now that that option's gone I can concentrate on my problem.  
He sank to the floor of the hall, tucking his knees to his chest to keep his legs out of the way. After some hesitation, he made himself invisible; he did not want to be disturbed during what was literally a life or death decision.  
Servants came down the hall to light the torches just as the cramp in his legs became unbearable. He quickly shed his invisibility spell, causing the nearest servant to look at him in surprise. The man quickly returned his attention to the torch; any servant working in the mages' wing was used to strange happenings.   
He felt better now that he had reached a decision. Once he started walking, he hardly noticed where he was going until he found himself standing in front of his own door.  
"Good idea, feet," he said to himself, ignoring the strange looks he was collecting. He was past the point of caring what other people thought.  
When he stepped through the door, he was immediately pushed back out by something moving at a high velocity. The force nearly knocked him over, but he managed to avoid crashing into the opposite wall. He looked down at it and was more than a little startled to see Daine burrowing her head into his chest.  
"Daine?" he croaked. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "Daine, you're alive!"  
She lifted her head and smiled at him. "Of course I'm alive! I've been stuck in the divine realms. You see, my mother thought...Numair? What on earth is the matter?"  
Numair had unentangled himself from her grasp, and was currently leaning against the wall, trembling and doing his best not to cry.   
"What's wrong?" she whispered.  
"Nothing's wrong," he whispered back, "but it came very close."  
  
I like that better! R/R, people! PLEASE!  
  



End file.
